


Musings from Music

by volee_weva



Category: Homestuck, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, M/M, References to Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volee_weva/pseuds/volee_weva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble collection inspired from music. Gift for tamerofdarkstars</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alcoholic Delusion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tamerofdarkstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/gifts).



> Hello. This is just a simply drabble collection for my dear tamerofdarkstars. All of these are inspired by music. Please enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homestuck- Inspired by "Fourth Drink Instinct" by Cute is What We Aim For

        You know you’re not in your own bed, and you know the bed you’re in was empty on the other side. It had been that way for a while, judging by the chill of the sheets. You groan as the light seemed to pierce your vision; your entire body aches with the dull pain of an intoxicated night. You try to remember the previous evening; you remember an argument with your best friend in the whole world. He had confronted you about your… habit. You, of course, had stormed out, rushing to the only place you knew where to go to make yourself happy again, the only place you knew where to go after something like this.

        You prop yourself up on the mattress as you recall the multitudes of drinks you consumed, one after the other, until everything was a happy, fruity blur. The barkeep had tried to cut you off, but you coaxed him on, coaxed him to keep filling it up. Fill up your glass to the tippy-top. Fill it until you couldn’t feel anything. God, you’re such an idiot.

        Then he slinked up to the bar, murmuring gently in your ear, buying you a drink. The drink was tasty, just like his lips. You had made out with him a little in the bar, exploring him with your hands and mouths, until he suggestively whispered, “Howv ‘bout vwe go back to my place?” Of course, you agreed; he was hot and you were desperate for any type of affection. That and you liked his accent.

         The way his body touched you, the gentle caresses and kisses mixed with the hard thrusts and bites, made your inebriated mind wonder if he actually liked you, hell, even loved you. It made you come up with this fantasy of this man being in love with you. You completely forgot that you didn’t even know his name, and probably never would.

         And now, now you are sitting in some stranger’s bed, naked, hungover, and alone. This wasn’t the way you should live, but you couldn’t stop now. You’ve been on this slippery slope, hopelessly searching for contentment in life at the bottom of every bottle of wine. Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and you know you can never fix what you’ve done to yourself; you’re forever bound to this desolate alcoholic delusion of happiness. You can’t think about this anymore. You’ve gotta find yourself a drink, stat.


	2. I Hate You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xiaolin Showdown-inspired by "I Don't Like You" by Rocky Loves Emily.

               If Chase Young were to describe Jack Spicer with one word, he would use weak. From those infernal feminine screams to the redhead’s groveling at his feet. Chase absolutely hated the weak, and all Jack displayed was weakness, constant weakness. At first, Jack had seemed like a worthy henchman, maybe even more than that. But, once the “evil boy genius” (haha as if) had made his first astounding failure, Chase knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with this boy’s crying and incompetence.

                So, of course, he sent him away, but the thing with Jack was that he doesn’t go quietly. He knelt at the dragon’s feet, hands folded, going on about how mean Chase was being, how important the insolent boy felt he was to Chase. The Heylin warrior, frankly, was getting fed up. He had made up his mind; Jack Spicer was worthless and needed to leave.

                “I don’t like you, Spicer.” He spat. “Now, go.”

                And with that, Chase Young thought he would be rid of the stupid redhead. Unfortunately, that’s not how Jack Spicer perceived the situation. He kept popping up in his lair, babbling about how good of “evil buddies” the two were. The dragon had little patience for this; it was almost as though Jack constantly forgot about Chase specifically stating he wasn’t fond of him. He had to keep repeating the same scene. A fawning Spicer, whining about how cruel this was and about how Chase was his friend, and Chase replying with a hissed “I don’t like you, Spicer. Now, go.”

                These over-the-top meetings seemed to entertain Wuya, but always left Chase in a sour mood. The only time he had found any enjoyment in sending Jack away was the last time. There was the familiar set up again. Jack hanging off the Heylin warrior’s leg, sniffling about all the stupid reasons they should team up. One sentence in particular made Chase’s ears prick.

                “And I love you, so it would be awesome if we—“

                The dragon grabbed Jack by the shirt collar. “What did you say, worm?”

                The redhead’s cheeks flushed and he shrugged. He giggled nervously. “I… Uh, love you?”

                Chase dropped him flat on his back, stomping on the boy’s chest.

                “Listen here, Spicer, and listen well. I’ve told you multiple times, I don’t like you. But, I’ve realized I’ve been too nice. What I mean by I don’t like you,” The Heylin warrior leaned forward a little, his eyes flashing with a demonic glint. “I hate you, Spicer. Now, go.”

                Chase thought he saw Jack start to cry. After that, the redhead never showed his face in Chase’s lair again. The dragon found it quite pleasing. A world without insects was a world he wanted to live in.  

 


	3. Better Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hunger Games- Inspired by "Pressure" by Paramore.

               They were a team, working together like a well oiled machine. All of them had the same ferocity in their eyes, the same passion, and the same kinds of scars.  And then there was her. Effie Trinket, the one that didn’t belong in the District Twelve Victor’s group. She didn’t know the pain they had faced; she certainly didn’t think like any of them.

                There was a lot of tension in not fitting in; the looks of derision Haymitch would give her were like daggers stabbing into her all the time. It was almost as if she was unwanted. Were the Victors of District Twelve better off without the Capitol bombshell? More often than not, this thought would cross Effie’s mind. She would just shake it off, telling herself that they needed her. She was important to them… Yes. So very important.

                These motivational thoughts never made the empty feeling she had go away. She couldn’t really fit in, since she never knew the feeling of suffering like they had. They had a bond in anguish that couldn’t be broken, and what was she? She was a symbol of Capitol life, a symbol of everything they hated.

                As she sat in her cell, breathing heavily into the darkness, she wondered if her capture and captivity was fate. Were Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch glad she was gone? Delusions of them guffawing at how worthless Effie was floated through her tortured brain. Haymitch’s words would be harshest of all; she knew for certain he hated her from the moment he saw her. Effie could feel her ribs ache as she sobbed. _They really are better off without me._


End file.
